


keep me safe inside your arms

by stylinson



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of alcoholism, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2013-01-07
Packaged: 2017-11-24 00:49:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/628389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stylinson/pseuds/stylinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Louis first noticed it he thought nothing much of it, because Harry was just an all-around sweet and caring person, and it made him fall even more in love with him...until it got to a point where Louis realized that Harry was almost <em>too</em> eager to do what he was asked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	keep me safe inside your arms

**Author's Note:**

> written for this prompt on the kinkmeme:
> 
> "Harry and Louis start dating, but Louis doesn't know that Harry has been in an abusive relationship before.  
> Harry is really shy, tries to please Louis all the time (like cooking for him and making sure Louis is always comfortable and stuff) because that's just what he's used to - taking care of the needs of others because he's used to get punished otherwise. Louis just thinks it's really cute at the beginng and then I'd really like for Louis to find out at some time because they get in a fight or something and Louis tries to touch Harry and he flinches away because he thinks Louis is going to hit him.  
> And then Louis just showing Harry what it's like to be in a real relationship, taking care of him and showing him that he's loved."
> 
> title from We Are Broken by Paramore.

Louis first noticed it on the day he was sick. 

Curled up in bed with a fever, feeling lightheaded and miserable, he was touched by the fact that Harry constantly stayed by his side, bringing him his cold medicine, glasses of water, and even making him homemade chicken soup. Harry would take his temperature at regular intervals, pressing a cool hand to his forehead, instantly calming Louis. “You alright, love?” he’d ask fondly, furrowing his brow in that sickeningly adorable way of his. “Is there anything else you need me to do?” And when Louis would simply shake his head and pat the spot on the bed next to him, Harry would crawl under the covers and snuggle up next to Louis without hesitation.

At the time it was normal that Harry should take so much care of him, seeing as he could hardly do anything for himself. But as the days wore on, Louis began to notice it more and more.

The fact was, Harry was a good boyfriend. The best anyone could ask for. He was always eager to please, making sure Louis was always comfortable. If Louis was lounged out on the couch watching football, there Harry would be, poking his head in and asking if he wanted any snacks or drinks. If Louis had just come home from work, exhausted after a long day, there would be Louis’ favourite food laying there on the dinner table, waiting for him, and he could always expect a back massage as well.

So when Louis first noticed it he thought nothing much of it, because Harry was just an all-around sweet and caring person, and it made him fall even more in love with him. 

But then it got to a point where Louis realized that Harry was almost _too_ eager to do what he was asked. It happened when they were sitting on the couch just having a normal conversation about TV shows.

“So you’re telling me you’ve never watched an episode of Friends in your life?” Louis asks incredulously, jaw dropped in mock surprise.

“Nope,” Harry shrugs.

“Get out,” Louis says, jokingly, and he’s about to go grab a DVD and show Harry what he’s been missing out on.

But then, “Oh,” and Harry’s already getting up and walking awkwardly out of the room.

Louis watches his retreating backside awkwardly, unsure of what to do. “Hey, come back,” he says hurriedly. “I was kidding.”

Harry tiptoes back in slowly, and sits back down on the couch with a sheepish smile. Louis looks him over, sees the way his body is oddly tense, but drops it for the moment, reaching for the remote instead.

Louis thinks about it sometimes when he’s alone, because it’s beginning to bother him how obedient Harry is. So then, Louis decides to ask Harry about it. Louis’ always been pretty open with Harry, believing that communication is necessary for a good relationship. He approaches the issue at the dinner table.

“So, Harry,” he says awkwardly, unsure of how to phrase the question. “Why do you, uh, always listen to what I say? I mean,” he adds hurriedly, “not that I don’t like it or anything, you’re just, always so obedient…”

He looks up, hoping for an explanation, but Harry only mumbles a quick reply.

“Dunno. I just like making you happy,” he says, ducking his head so Louis can’t see his face. And then he changes the subject, asking about Louis’ day at work.

By then Louis is pretty sure Harry’s hiding something from him. He tries bringing it up again when they’re sitting on the couch, sipping a can of beer and watching football, Louis’ arm draped casually over his shoulder.

“Harry, I know we talked about this last time, but, I’m just wondering, you know. Why do you always do what I say?”

Harry’s body suddenly tenses up again, and he looks down, fidgeting nervously with his fingers. “Just wanna make you happy,” he murmurs.

“But I am happy,” Louis replies. “You don’t always have to do it, you know. You can—you _should_ — put yourself first sometimes.”

“Okay,” Harry says tightly, keeping his eyes trained on the telly. Louis has had enough of him dodging the issue, so he reaches for the remote and turns it off. He shifts in his spot so he’s facing Harry.

“Is something wrong?” he asks, looking at Harry, whose eyes are darting nervously around the room. “You can tell me, you know.”

“I— I just—” Harry looks down again, biting his bottom lip. “Can we talk about this later?” he whispers so quietly Louis almost misses it.

“Why?” Louis replies, utterly confused now. “I don’t understand what’s wrong, I mean, I just asked you a simple question. Why can’t you just answer it?”

Harry’s ducked his head so far down that Louis can’t even see his face, and he reaches out to tilt Harry’s chin up—and then it happens. Harry flinches visibly, withdrawing in on himself like a turtle into its shell.

Something’s definitely wrong, Louis knows it now.

“Harry,” he says, gently but firmly. “Why did you do that?” Louis has always been very affectionate, reaching out to touch Harry more often than he needs to, and Harry never had a problem with it until now.

Harry raises his head a bit, and Louis’ breath hitches in his throat as he sees the fear in Harry’s eyes. He reaches a hand out to Harry again without thinking, to hold him or maybe stroke his hair or something, but Harry raises his arm almost immediately in front of his face in a blocking motion.

And then it hits him.

“You thought I was going to hurt you.” 

It’s more of a statement than a question, but the way Harry’s eyes suddenly go wide only confirms it. “Why?” Louis asks, watching helplessly as Harry bites down on his trembling bottom lip. “You know I’d never hurt you.” Thoughts are racing through his head as he struggles to come up with a reason why now of all times, Harry suddenly seems so _afraid…_

His eyes follow Harry’s gaze, and land on the can of beer lying on the table. Harry tries to look away, but it’s too late. Louis sees the way he eyes the beer, if only for a split second, and he thinks he’s found the source of the problem.

He sighs. “I’m not drunk, Harry, I’ve only had a couple sips.” Harry relaxes a bit, but Louis knows there’s still something on his mind. He reaches over, slowly, and takes Harry’s hand in his, glad when Harry doesn’t flinch or pull away.

“You know, you can tell me anything,” he whispers, looking straight into Harry’s eyes. He wants to make him happy, he really does, but first he needs Harry to be able to trust him. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Harry nods. And then he tells Louis what he’s kept secret from the start of their relationship.

“Remember … remember when I told you about my ex boyfriend?”

Louis nods. 

“Well,” Harry continues, taking a shaky breath, “there’s something I never told you about.”

Louis sees what’s coming, and squeezes Harry’s hand lightly for reassurance.

“He was really nice to me,” Harry continues, “except when he was drunk. Then he’d yell at me, hit me…told me I was worthless.” His voice cracks a little, and Louis feels an ache in his chest, sharp and visceral. He sees it all click inside his head—the reason why Harry had always been so shy, so obliging, why it’d taken so unbearably long to get Harry to go out on a date with him.

“Do you…does he still…?” Louis can’t bring himself to say it; the thought of someone doing that to Harry, _his_ Harry, makes his blood boil.

“No, no,” Harry is quick to assure Louis. “Niall found me, one day, when it got really bad…passed out on the street…after that, he made me promise I’d never go back to him. And I didn’t.” He smiles weakly. “So, yeah. That’s—that’s why I always try to please you, it’s just out of habit, I guess.”

Louis tightens his grip on Harry’s hand. “God, that’s—that’s terrible,” he says, blinking back the tears prickling at the back of his eyes. He can’t cry, not now; if anyone should be crying, it was Harry. “I’m sorry,” Louis says softly. “I wish—I wish that didn’t have to happen to you.” Because Harry doesn’t deserve it, any of it. Harry’s beautiful and amazing and perfect and if Louis could, he’d go back in time and erase it all so Harry would never have to experience something like that, ever.

“Yeah, well,” Harry shrugs. “’Ts okay.”

“No, it’s not, Harry,” Louis says. “You deserve so much better.” 

“I already _have_ ‘so much better,’” Harry says, looking up at Louis with watery eyes. “I have you. And I hardly deserve you to begin with.” 

Louis reaches up, tilting Harry’s chin up gently. “Harry, love, listen to me,” he says softly but firmly. “You’re beautiful and amazing and you’re _so_ much better than anyone could ask for. I wish I could show you how much you mean to me.” Because even if Louis can’t erase the past, he can at least make Harry happy _now._

So over the next few days, Louis makes it his mission to spoil Harry with everything he’s got. He wants to show Harry just what he deserves; to be _loved_ , wholly and unconditionally.

Their roles are reversed rather quickly, and it overwhelms Harry a bit; the way Louis wakes Harry up in the morning with a shower of kisses. The way that when Harry heads downstairs, Louis has already made him a cup of tea just the way he likes it, and eggs and toast too. (Or, at least, tried to—it’s the thought that counts, right?) The way that when Harry gets home from work Louis has already run a bath for him and prepared a romantic candlelit dinner (takeout this time, Louis says, he’s learned his lesson). And most importantly, the way Louis never misses a chance to tell Harry that he’s amazing, or that he loves him with all his heart. 

Harry isn’t used to this, to be honest—being taken care of and pampered, being told he’s loved. It feels good, of course, and his heart swells up a bit each time Louis does something unconditionally nice for him. And little by little, the nagging voice at the back of his head, telling him he’s _worthless_ and _not good enough_ and _doesn’t deserve any of this_ —it starts to go away.

Harry tells Louis how he feels one night when they’re cuddled together in bed, because he’s working on opening up more and telling Louis everything. And also because he’s still coming down from the high of what felt like the most amazing, mind-blowing sex he’d ever had in his life. 

“Louis,” he murmurs into the skin of Louis’ collarbone, and his eyes flutter open to look at him. “Hm?” 

Harry almost loses his train of thought, just staring at those eyes that are so stunningly _blue_. But he catches himself just in time. “Thanks,” he whispers, “for everything you’ve done, you know, these past few days.”

“Oh, that,” Louis waves a hand vaguely as if in dismissal. “That’s nothing compared to how you make me feel every day.”

He leans down to kiss the top of Harry’s head, and Harry chuckles, burying his head deeper into the crook of Louis’ neck to hide his blush.

“It’s only true,” Louis says, and Harry looks up to see him smiling warmly. “You’ve spent so long trying so hard to make me happy. It’s only fair that I do the same for you. And besides,” he continues, “you deserve it. You’re amazing, Harry, you really are.”

And that’s all it takes for Harry to melt into a puddle. It’s pathetic, really. But he finds that he doesn’t care at all. Tucked beneath Louis’ arm, their limbs entwined lazily together, listening to the steady rhythm of Louis’ heartbeat, Harry feels something he hasn’t felt in a long time. He feels safe.


End file.
